It could be reckoned that May 1, 2004, was the beginning of the end for Bob Dow. The girls were with Bob at the Ridgmar Mall in Fort Worth that day. Ridgmar is one of those cookie-cutter corporate malls found in every major suburb throughout America: JCPenney, LensCrafters, a super cinema, the pretzel and cookie kiosks, the vendors lined down the center aisle pimping cheap sunglasses and crappy plastic flying helicopters and smelly “handwoven” blankets and second-rate jewelry.Jen and Bobbi were walking around the mall, holding hands, kissing, laughing, having a pleasant time on May 1, 2004. The day was fairly normal—that is, in the course of their unhealthy, unbalanced, and imminently ruinous relationship. To passersby, they looked like nothing more than two teenagers enjoying their sexuality, sharing a day at the mall together. However, there was some “old” man, flanking them in the background, holding a camera, at times snapping photos like a paparazzo.“I was enjoying this new chick,”
